Oatmeal
by Kate McCaye
Summary: A little shippiness, a little injury, a little humor. Jack breaks his ankle. Sam's in charge.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: I swear this will end up differently than most of the stories that start out with either Jack or Sam getting injured, just bear with me, peoples.

Oatmeal

Ch. 1

Major Sam Carter was sitting at an empty table in the mostly empty commissary on base at just after nine in the morning on a Saturday, enjoying the bliss only a first cup of coffee could bring. It was the first day of a two-week down-time that was apparently going to be strictly inforced by General Hammond.

In fact, Colonel O'Neill had informed her only the night before that he was going to station four SFs outside of her lab with Zat guns and orders not to let her inside under any circumstances. She was fairly certain he was joking. He might have been able to get ONE SF to do that, but four? There was no way. Still, the point had been made.

By the time she put the finishing touches on her batch of paperwork the night before, however, she was too tired to drive herself home, so she had slept on base again. She glanced at her watch, realized that she had only been on down-time for two hours, and sighed. Bored already.

Daniel had gone with Teal'c to visit Ryac, so it wasn't like she could hang out with either of them. Cassie had finals that week, and even if she didn't, apparently even teenagers from other planets found spending the weekend with their thirty-something pseudo-aunts to be less than thrilling. Colonel O'Neill had predictably asked her to go fishing again, and she had predictably refused again. Two weeks in an isolated cabin with her CO? Was he joking? Either one of them would be coming home in a body bag or they'd finally jump each other and just refuse to come back at all. She figured it was even money as to which of the two outcomes it would be.

Just as she was resigning herself to two weeks of boredom, she realized one of Janet's nurses was speaking to her.

"Sorry," she said, looking up at the woman apologetically. "What were you saying, Lieutenant Rush?"

"Sorry Major Carter. I didn't mean to interrupt you, but..."

"It's fine, I was just a bit distracted... what can I do for you?"

"Dr. Fraiser sent me to get you. There's something in the infirmary she'd like you to see."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam smiled at her and tossed her coffee on the way to the infirmary. Didn't sound like an emergency, so why had Janet bothered to send someone to track her down...

"Oh no," she said as she entered the infirmary. Dr. Fraiser looked up from her task with a look that plainly said, 'Can you believe this guy?' while Colonel Jack O'Neill growled at her to hurry up and finish putting the cast on his leg.


	2. 2

Ch. 2

"You broke your leg," she stated as she stopped at the foot of his bed.

He glared at her. "And you're supposed to be the smart one."

She ignored that comment. "Sir, you went home last night. How did you break your leg at home?"

"Ankle," Janet supplied.

"I had an... incident."

"Sir, I'm going to tell her if you don't," Janet informed him with her most triumphant smile.

"You're an evil elf," he said, glaring at her.

Sam tried not to smile. She enjoyed the fact that her friend could get away with saying much more to her CO than she ever could, unless she wanted her file littered with as many court-martials as his was.

"All right. I fell," he informed her, as if it was a state secret.

"Doing what, sir?" she asked innocently.

"Playing hockey."

"Hockey? In May?"

"Street hockey. With the neighbors." Kids a third his age no doubt, she thought. "It's not my fault the braking systems on those damn rollerblades are crap. I don't care what Daniel says, they are NOTHING like ice skates."

"Yes, sir. How long are we going to be off active duty?" she asked Janet.

"I can't say at the moment. It's only a small fracture, no muscle damage luckily. I'll remove this cast in two weeks and do another round of X-Rays. We can go from there."

"I'll be fine," he insisted. "My bones heal very fast," he said proudly.

Sam tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Janet didn't bother. As she rolled them, she said, "It would be better if you didn't continually insist on checking their durability, Colonel."

"Yeah, yeah. Are you about done?"

"Yes, sir," she said, snapping off her gloves.

"Sam, while I would have naturally called you down here just to witness this lovely spectacle..." she paused and snatched a tongue-depresser from the Colonel's hands. It had been on a clear path towards the top of the cast. "I need you to give the Colonel a ride home."

"Sure."

"Hey, what about my truck?" he insisted.

"You won't be driving anyway, not with that cast on. Now, these are for pain and swelling. One every four hours as needed. NO BEER. Got it?"

When she spoke in THAT tone of voice, even Colonel O'Neill couldn't argue with her. "Yes, doc," he said meekly, taking the bottle of pills and handing them to Sam.

As Sam helped him up onto his crutches, Janet added casually, "Oh, Sam, you don't mind staying with him for a while, do you?"


	3. 3

Ch. 3

They both stared at Dr. Fraiser as if her eyes had suddenly glowed.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I know it's your downtime, but there's not another choice. I can't have him in here for two weeks, my entire staff would quit, or kill him in his sleep."

"I can manage just fine on my own, doc, thank you," the Colonel insisted.

"I say otherwise. I'll go to General Hammond if I have to, Colonel. Now, if you don't want Sam I can get Carmichael..."

"Who?" Jack barked.

"The male nurse, sir," Sam prompted.

"Over my dead body!" Jack said grumpily, looking back and forth between the two women in defeat.

"Janet," Sam whined.

Not only was it completely obvious he didn't want her around, the whole scenario she had imagined earlier about going with him to the cabin was seeping back into her thoughts. The one with only two possible outcomes.

"Sam, you were looking for a project for your vacation..." Janet was quickly losing interest in the conversation, busy finishing filling out the Colonel's chart.

"So I'm a project now, ladies?" Jack asked defensively.

"A neverending one, sir," Sam said with a sigh as Janet took another tongue-depresser from him. "Come on."

"Fine," he grumbled, taking extra-large steps on his crutches just to irritate Janet.

As they headed out the door, she called, "I'll check in on you both routinely to make sure you haven't killed each other!"


	4. 4

Ch 4

Sam let the Colonel into his own house and helped him get situated on the couch so that he was sitting sideways with his leg propped up. She watched him picking at the throw pillow he was clutching. He actually looked quite miserable.

Softening a little, she said, "Would you like me to go check on your grocery situation, sir?"

"Sure," he said, accidentally pulling a thread loose from the stitching of the pillow. He kept tugging on it, trying to break it off. Sighing, Sam took it away from him and handed him the television remote instead before going into the kitchen and peering into the refrigerator.

Not one but three different kinds of beer, a giant box of AA batteries (for his Gameboy, she thought with a smile,) an almost empty bottle of ketchup, and a piece of very questionable fruit.

"Sir, is this an apple or a peach?" she called.

"I have no idea!" he called back in a cheerful tone that made her laugh.

"Maybe I should send it to the lab for analysis," she muttered as she grabbed a paper towel to protect her hand before removing the offensive piece of fruit and throwing it away.

"Okay, so you basically need everything," she said as she returned to the living room.

"Sir!" she said sharply as she saw what he was doing. He looked up at her, caught red-handed. "Give me the pen," she said firmly. He relinquished the pen he'd had down his cast to scratch his leg, but he didn't look sorry at all. "You've only had it on for an hour," she pointed out.

He grumbled something unintelligible.

"Well, Janet said those pain pills should knock you out, so I think now would be a good time for me to go to the grocery store and go home to get some stuff."

"Whatever floats your boat," he said with a shrug, already eyeing the pen again.

She looked around the room for anything else he might find to stick down his cast and said, "Please try to behave, sir."

"No problem."

"Right," she muttered as she grabbed her keys again.


	5. 5

Ch 5

When Sam returned with bags of groceries and a small bag of clothes and other things for herself, she was pleased to see that her CO was sacked out on the couch. It gave her plenty of time to put away the groceries and take her bag to the room she and Daniel had both stayed in occasionally.

Once that was done, she took her laptop, which she had also retrieved from her house, and set it up on the dining room table so she could get a little bit of work done. After a few quick adjustments to his own computer, which apparently he only used for games, she realized with a smirk, she had hers online and was halfway through answering an e-mail from Siler when Jack hobbled into the room on his crutches.

"What are you doing?" he asked accusingly.

"Answering an e-mail from Siler," she replied as she continued typing.

"About what?"

"He gets worried sometimes, asks me crazy 'what if' scenarios about things that could potentially go wrong with the gate. In about a million years."

"Tell him to get a life."

"I think you did that last week, sir. The poor man looked near tears."

"Well... stop working. It's your down-time too and I feel bad about ruining it."

"And yet you continue to ruin it by trying to take my computer away," she argued with a smile, pulling it closer towards herself and safety. As he was on crutches, he was in no position to physically take it away from her, so he tried another tactic.

"I'm hungry. Did you eat lunch already?"

"No, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir when we're not on base. Actually I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Okay."

"Do you want to order pizza or something?"

"I got the stuff to make sandwiches at the store." He seemed to ponder this for several moments. "What?" she finally asked.

"Oh nothing," he said in that teasing tone of voice of his. "I'm just trying to figure out if Janet meant sandwiches too when she said, 'whatever you do, don't let her anywhere near the kitchen.'"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Very funny. You can fix your own then, and mine will be infinitely better."

"Oh we'll see about that," he challenged, following her into the kitchen.

They each made a very elaborate sandwich, trying to out-do each other, then swapped to sample. Each admitted the other had done a good job, but neither would concede that their own construction was in any way inferior. Finally they agreed to a draw.

While Jack went back into the living room, Sam cleaned up the small mess they had made in the kitchen, since he really couldn't do that while on crutches. Once she was finished, she could hear that he was watching television again, so she sat back down at her computer. One thing was noticably absent.

"Hey! What did you do with my power cord?!" she yelled into the living room.


	6. 6

Ch 6

For all of Colonel O'Neill's protesting that she needed to learn how to relax, Sam was starting to think he wasn't that much better at it than she was. Take away the pond with no fish in it and he was just as desperate for something to do as she was. They had played four games of chess, watched the entire "Indiana Jones" trilogy, and played on his XBox until their thumbs were sore. They had both read the first "Harry Potter" book, which Cassie had been trying to get them into for years. Sam had cleaned his entire already-clean house. He had successfully smuggled away her cell phone and switched it over to Russian, only to realize he couldn't switch it back. She had been forced to call the base and find someone who spoke Russian and could tell her how to fix it. She had found his high school yearbook on a shelf somewhere and spent the better part of an hour laughing at his hair in the picture, only sobering up when he took her cell phone hostage and threatened to drown it in the toilet if she didn't swear never to mention the photo to anyone.

Now, they were both out of things to do, and they were both extremely bored and getting more irritated with the awkwardness that kept springing up between them at random times throughout the day, as they struggled to balance the surprising ease of the situation with the fact that they both knew it had a definite expiration date. And it had only been a day and a half.

Which was how they found themselves sitting on the couch after dinner, watching something about mummies on the History Channel because it reminded them both of Daniel, although even Jack had already noticed four factual errors in the program.

"You know," he said at the commercial, turning the volume down. She glanced over at him. She had noticed over the past two days that he had a tendency to pick up conversations that had been left off hours before, or start completely new ones out of the blue that he'd apparently already been having in his head. "If I hadn't broken my ankle, I'd be at my cabin right now."

"Very true," she said evenly, suspecting she knew where this was going but not liking it one bit.

"I really don't think my minor injury prevents me from being able to fish," he continued, looking at her hopefully.

"Oh, I think it does," she said, steeling herself for another match.

"Well, I mean, it would probably be a little dangerous to go out on the boat, but I could sit on the dock without a problem..."

"And how exactly do you propose to GET to Minnesota when you can't drive?"

"Well... you could drive."

"Or not."

"It could be fun."

"Or not."

"What do you have against fish?"

"Nothing. Although from what I hear, that's not really even the point."

"Huh?"

"I heard there aren't any fish at all in your precious lake."

"That's a lie."

"My sources are quite reliable, Colonel. Have you ever caught anything there?"

"Of course!"

"Within the last five years?"

"Of..." he thought for a moment and tried to remember. Then he gave up and just said, "Of course I have!"

"Sure. So let me get this straight. First you go and break your leg, so I get stuck babysitting you for two weeks. Then you expect me to drive you all the way to Minnesota to watch you sit on a dock and stare at the water."

"Yes?" he asked hopefully.

"Over. My. Dead. Body." She said it with a smile though, not wanting to accidentally offend him. Sometimes he could be touchy about things like fishing.

"Well, at least you're not still worried about silly little things like being out of line with a superior officer," he said with a triumphant smirk, for all the world as though that had been the entire point of the conversation.


	7. 7

Ch 7

Cassie waited around impatiently on Jack's porch. She was meeting her mother there for dinner with Jack and Sam. Her mom had called minutes before to let her know she was running about fifteen minutes late. It was a school night, so Cassie hadn't had other plans, and besides, she had been interested to see how Jack and Sam were getting along since he had broken his ankle. She and her mom had spent a rather pleasant evening speculating on the potential goings-on.

As she finally gave up knocking, tried the handle, found it open, and let herself in, she stopped in surprise. Nothing they had come up with was quite as good as this, she thought as she tried to silently shut the door behind herself.

There was a very loud conversation coming from Jack's bedroom. Peering down the hallway, she could just make out that the door was open as Sam's voice loudly said, "They're going to be here ANY minute!"

"I don't care!"

"You've been wearing that shirt for the past three days!"

"So? It's not like I've been chasing Jaffa around in it, I've been sitting around the house!"

"That's not the point!"

"It's not smelly or anything!"

"It's got pizza sauce on it!"

"It blends in with the theme of the shirt!"

"Shirts should not have themes!"

"Hear that, Homer? I knew she was jealous of you!"

"Take. Off. The. Shirt."

"No!"

There was a scuffling sound, followed by, "Take it off or the Bart one gets it!"

"Sam! Put down the Sharpie. We can all walk away from this. No one has to get hurt..."

Cassie was clutching the wall in silent laughter.

There was several moments of silence, followed by Sam's voice again. "Thank you. Now, you are going to shave, right?"

At the loud growl that followed, Cassie jumped and knocked a picture off the wall. It clattered loudly to the floor and the noise from the bedroom stopped.

Not wanting to get shot, she called hastily, "It's me, don't shoot!" as she grabbed the picture, which was thankfully not broken. As she re-hung the picture, Sam hurried to greet her, slamming the bedroom door shut behind her and clutching a tee-shirt in her hand.

"Cassie! I didn't hear you come in!" she exclaimed in an overly-cheerful voice, clearly unaware that Cassie had heard the conversation.

"Hi, Sam," she said, unable to conceal her huge grin as she hugged the older woman. "Where's Jack?"

"Um, he's just getting ready. Come on, let's go order the Chinese food."

"Mom's running a little bit late."

"No problem."

"Um, Sam?"

"What?"

"What are you doing with that shirt?" she asked, watching in amusement as Sam stuffed it in the back of the freezer.

"Nothing. How did finals go?"

"Well..."

Cassie started to answer, but they both jumped as Jack bellowed, "SAM! I'M BLEEDING!"


	8. 8

Ch. 8  
  
Janet Fraiser knocked on the door to Colonel O'Neill's house, surprised when her own daughter answered it almost immediately.  
  
"Hi, sweetie, how was your day?" she asked as she stepped inside and hugged her quickly.  
  
"Oh, it got a lot more interesting once I got here," Cassie replied.  
  
"Why, what's going on? Where's Sam?"  
  
"In the bathroom. With Jack."  
  
"Why..."  
  
"Oh, they were arguing like an old married couple when I got here, she came out to talk to me while he shaved or something, but he started yelling that he was bleeding, she went back to check on him, that's the last I've seen of them in five minutes."  
  
"Five minutes, he could be seriously hurt," Janet said quickly, the doctor part of her brain taking over as she hurried towards the Colonel's bathroom with her daughter in tow.  
  
"I doubt that, Mom," Cassie tried to warn her.  
  
Janet stopped as she could hear him talking through the almost closed bathroom door. "It hurts my armpit to lean on one side and shave with the other hand," he was whining.  
  
"Well, you can't really leave it like that, you're only halfway done," Sam's voice countered logically.  
  
"Am I still bleeding? I think I need a transfusion."  
  
"No, you're not still bleeding. Relax."  
  
"I think I'm still bleeding. What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking for a mirror you can hold in front of you while you sit there so you don't have to whine about your armpits."  
  
"I wasn't whining."  
  
"Yes, you were."  
  
"No I wasn't."  
  
"Fine. Have it your way."  
  
"I don't have one."  
  
"One what?"  
  
"Mirror."  
  
"How can you not have a mirror?"  
  
"Well, there's one on the wall right there, why would I need another one?"  
  
Sam let out a frustrated cry and said, "Fine, be still."  
  
"Sam be careful..."  
  
"Stop talking or I might accidentally cut you again."  
  
"Accidentally?"  
  
"Well, it would be pretty easy to make it look like an accident when the police question me about it."  
  
"I'll be quiet now."  
  
"Good."  
  
Janet was holding her mouth and shaking with silent giggles. Cassie was getting used to it by this point, but after a few moments of silence, followed by Sam saying, "You really shouldn't have put on that clean shirt BEFORE you shaved. Now you need another one," even Cassie was cracking up again.  
  
She waved for her mom to follow her out of room before they were overheard. They retreated to the safety of the living room before bursting out laughing simultaneously.  
  
"What's so funny?" Sam asked as she came into the living room.  
  
"Nothing," they both said at the same time, looking at each other and bursting into laughter again.  
  
"What's so funny?" Jack asked as he hobbled into the room. They both laughed even harder. He turned to Sam for an explanation.  
  
"Apparently nothing," she said, looking back and forth between the two.  
  
"These Fraiser women are very strange creatures," Jack said in a very loud whisper.  
  
Sam laughed and said, "Yeah, maybe we should send them to Area 51 for analysis."  
  
Janet and Cassie both got control of themselves at that point and Cassie decided a little payback was in order for that remark. "Jack, nice shirt," she said casually.  
  
Sam narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn't say anything. Jack glanced down at the plain gray shirt he was wearing and looked at her like she was insane.  
  
"Sam, honey, there's something in your ear," Janet said innocently, wiping at a spot just behind Sam's left ear. "Looks like shaving cream."  
  
"Huh, imagine that," Jack said casually as he sat down in his big comfy chair and Sam went into the kitchen to clean herself up, trying not to blush.  
  
Jack turned his attention to Cassie. "So, any new guys I need to lay down the law with?"  
  
"Anything to report that would settle all those bets on base?" she countered.  
  
He swallowed and turned to Janet. "So, Doc... how are the needles? Do they miss me?" 


	9. 9

Ch 9  
  
Shortly after dinner, Janet politely suggested she and Cassie should be getting home, but Sam, Jack, and Cassie all protested strongly.  
  
"It's a school night," Janet reminded them.  
  
"Aw, come on, Sam's getting tired of me kicking her ass at XBox, I could use another challenger..." Jack argued.  
  
"You're on!" Cassie said, going over to the television to set it up.  
  
Sam protested, "If I recall correctly, I won last time. And the time before that. And the time before..."  
  
"I don't remember that, sorry... must have been in an alternate reality," he interrupted as he adjusted the pillow underneath his cast.  
  
Sam rolled her eyes and looked to Janet for support, but Janet was too busy looking like the cat that ate the proverbial canary for Sam's tastes. She laughed as she pictured the Colonel's response to that cliche, then mentally scolded herself as she and Janet started clearing all the leftovers into the kitchen.  
  
"So," Janet said as soon as they were alone.  
  
"Janet," Sam said with a weary sigh.  
  
"What, all I said was 'so,'" Janet said defensively.  
  
"Ah yes but there was so much behind it," Sam said with a fond smile as they started boxing up the leftovers.  
  
"Well, you haven't killed each other yet, so I guess that's a good sign," Janet said, trying to find a way to open up the forum for discussion.  
  
"I guess," Sam said absently, although she wasn't quite sure. The more remote that possibility became, the more probable her second scenario, the one that could result in the end of both of their careers, seemed to become.  
  
"I know it's probably not easy, Sam," Janet continued, trying to be sympathetic. "I mean I of all people know how cranky the Colonel can be when he's injured..."  
  
"That's the problem," Sam said suddenly, glancing towards the living room to make sure Cassie and Jack were absorbed in their game. "He's not. I mean, yeah, he's kind of grumpy, but not SERIOUSLY grumpy, you know what I mean? He's acting very... not normal. ACTING grumpy occasionally, but then also being very... friendly and... nice to be around."  
  
"And flirty?" Janet asked, unable to stop herself.  
  
"Janet!"  
  
"What? Okay, okay, I'm sorry for giving you a hard time, Sam. I know this is an awkward situation, but you both seem to be doing a lot better than I would have predicted. I mean, despite your constant bickering, it's been a long time since I've seen either of you looking this relaxed. Or healthy."  
  
"Really?" Sam asked in genuine surprise. It certainly didn't FEEL relaxing most of the time.  
  
Janet nodded seriously. "And I know these things. I'm your doctor, after all."  
  
"True." Sam bit her lip. "Want to hear something... unusual?" she asked, lowering her voice and leaning across the island towards Janet.  
  
"Always," Janet said, leaning in as well.  
  
"Well... I've been making oatmeal every morning."  
  
Janet stared at her in a confused stupor. "Is that a euphemism or something?" she finally asked, when her friend failed to elaborate.  
  
"Huh? No. Oatmeal. You know, for breakfast."  
  
"O...kay. I don't really see where you're going with this one, honey."  
  
"Well, after the time loop incident, Daniel and I were eating breakfast with him in the commissary and he was eating oatmeal like... like I've never seen anybody eat it before. Like it was the best stuff on earth."  
  
"Oatmeal," Janet stated, just to clarify.  
  
"I know, right? So anyway, I assumed it was one of his favorite things to eat, and it's one of the few things I can cook without making it end up tasting like chicken..."  
  
Janet laughed but didn't interrupt.  
  
"...So he's been eating oatmeal EVERY morning for a week now, acting like it's the best thing in the whole world, and then this morning, Siler called while we were eating breakfast so I went into the other room and I glanced back in the kitchen while I was talking to him, and he looked completely different, you know, like another bite of oatmeal might just finish him off. So as soon as I got off the phone with Siler, I called him on it."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"That oatmeal wasn't his favorite, he didn't really even like it all that much, he wasn't even thinking about oatmeal that day I was telling you about! It was just a coincidence he was eating oatmeal at the time..."  
  
"Then why did he eat so much of it this week?"  
  
"He said he didn't want to hurt my feelings, since it was the only thing he'd ever seen me fix before and it was obviously important to me for some reason," Sam finished, glancing nervously towards the living room to make sure they weren't overheard.  
  
"That's sweet. In a very, very strange way that oddly fits the two of you. So, how did you respond to that?"  
  
"I didn't," Sam admitted. "I didn't know what to say that wouldn't either sound like I was being cold or be... you know, a little... too much. I just threw out the oatmeal and he ate Pop-Tarts."  
  
"Sam, you're hopeless. The both of you."  
  
"You may be right, Janet," Sam agreed with a sigh. "So, how are things at the SGC?"  
  
They chatted for a while about what Sam had been missing at work, speculations on how Daniel and Teal'c were doing, and the fact that Cassie's latest boyfriend had blue hair.  
  
"Like Marge Simpson?" Sam asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion as Janet revealed that little tid-bit.  
  
Janet rolled her eyes. "Okay, you are officially spending WAY too much time with the Colonel," she said jokingly.  
  
"Doctor's orders, if I recall correctly," Sam countered.  
  
"True. So, shall we discuss the nauseatingly sweet performance you two put on during dinner?" Janet asked, steering the conversation back around to the topic she found most interesting.  
  
"There is nothing nauseating OR sweet about the Colonel! Or me!" Sam insisted, shutting the refrigerator much harder than she meant to.  
  
The noise reached the living room, and as he tried to blow up Cassie's car, Jack called, "Hey Doc, keep an eye on her while she's in there, would ya? My fire insurance doesn't cover acts of Sam!"  
  
Janet laughed and called back, "Will do, Colonel!"  
  
Sam glared at her and glared in the direction of the living room, sending all kinds of evil thoughts towards Jack and Cassie, who was laughing her little butt off. 


	10. 10

Ch 10

Sam opened her eyes, slightly confused. It was the middle of the day, why was she asleep? And outside? She sat up, looking around, and blushed when she realized Jack was still awake, sitting in the chair opposite her on his deck out back, with his leg propped up.  
  
"Nice nap?" he asked, watching her with obvious amusement.  
  
"Um, yeah," she admitted, stretching her neck slightly.  
  
"Do you know what just happened?" he asked. She clearly didn't. "We were having a conversation. And you fell asleep."  
  
"I did?" she asked, her eyes widening.  
  
"Yes, you did."  
  
"Sorry... what were we talking about?"  
  
"I was describing the many attributes of my cabin, in the hopes that you would change your mind about driving me there..."  
  
"There's not even time to do that anymore anyway, you're going back to Janet tomorrow..."  
  
"That's beside the point. You fell asleep."  
  
"You were talking about fishing."  
  
"I know."  
  
They stared at each other, exasperated, for a few moments, then both finally shrugged. He would never understand why she loved to take things apart and fiddle with them, and she would never understand why he liked fishing.  
  
"I'm going to go get a drink. Want one?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
She went back into the house and poured two glasses of iced tea.  
  
"WHAT do you think you are doing?" she demanded as she got back outside. He had grabbed the tongs from his barbecue, judging by the shape of the handle that was coming poking out the top of his cast.  
  
"Nothing," he said innocently, trying to discreetly remove and hide the tongs.  
  
She sighed deeply and sat back down, curling her legs up sideways in the chair.  
  
"So," he said, turning to look at her. "You're probably excited about going back to work tomorrow."  
  
"I suppose," she said absently without really thinking.  
  
"You suppose? Could that possibly mean that Major Dr. Sam Carter has actually slightly ENJOYED taking a break from saving the universe?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"Maybe," she admitted, determinedly not looking at him.  
  
"Well, that's good to hear," he said quietly, and he let it drop after that, to her surprise.

That night, it was raining hard, and she was having trouble sleeping, probably because of her nap earlier in the day. She finally gave up tossing and turning in the guest room and got up.  
  
She went into the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly, trying to sort through her thoughts and having little success. At the first crash of thunder, she decided to go get back in bed and try to read until she was able to fall asleep. It was too chilly to be walking around in the middle of the night in her pajamas anyway.  
  
As she reached the door to her room, however, she stopped and turned, her eyes drawn to the Colonel's closed door. Biting her lip, she opened it carefully and peeked in. He was asleep, of course. Before she gave herself time to worry about what would happen if he woke up, she had crept across the room and was curled up in a ball hugging her knees, leaning against the dresser.  
  
She was staring at him, but she wasn't really seeing him. She was frustrated with herself and their situation for so many reasons. She was the type of person who had to be able to solve problems, to sort through a jumble of events and lay them all out in a nice straight line of causes and effects, problems and solutions. But tonight she wasn't even able to sort out her own feelings, and it was frustrating the hell out of her.  
  
She knew she was relieved things were going to go back to normal tomorrow; it would make everything so much easier. At the same time she was sad. She could label some of the things she'd been feeling the past few weeks; she'd been annoyed, happy, irritated, amused, intrigued, surprised, scared, worried, comfortable, and fascinated. But there were just as many if not more other things floating around in her head that she either could not or would not put a name to.  
  
"You look cold," Jack said quietly.  
  
She screamed in surprise and jumped and he started laughing sleepily into his pillow.  
  
"You scared me!" she accused.  
  
"You're the one sitting in the dark in MY room, and it's MY fault for scaring YOU?" He was smiling now. "What's wrong? Scared of the storm?"  
  
"No," she said quietly, pulling her knees more tightly to her. He was right, she was freezing.  
  
"You sure? I'm no Julie Andrews, but I could try singing that song about... puppies and cake and... whatever."  
  
She laughed and said, "You've seen 'The Sound of Music?'"  
  
"Cassie made me watch it once. A long time ago."  
  
"Right."  
  
They were quiet for a minute. Finally, he said, "Do you want to come over here?"  
  
"That would be a bad idea," she said carefully, hoping he recognized that that wasn't necessarily a 'no.'  
  
"Right. So do you want to come over here?" he asked again with a smile.  
  
She returned the smile but didn't answer. After a few moments, he nodded and sat up. He grabbed the blanket that was folded at the foot of his bed and tossed it over to her.  
  
She curled up in it gratefully and said, "Thanks."  
  
He nodded and caught her eyes again, and they just looked at each other in the dark for a long time. That was the way it always was with them, she thought. A mostly silent understanding. No over-the top monologue confessions, nothing like anything you'd see in a cheesy romantic comedy. Just a silent acknowledgement on both parts of the way things were and the way they had to stay. It was sad, but it was comforting at the same time, because at least neither was alone.


	11. 11

Ch. 11

Sam woke up the next morning and she was back in the guest room, curled up snugly under the covers. She sat up quickly and looked at the clock. Just after eight. The last thing she remembered was talking in the Colonel's bedroom. She supposed it was possible she had been so groggy as she crossed the hall back to her own room that she didn't remember it, but that was unusual for her.  
  
She showered and dressed to take him back to the base for his X-Ray appointment, then went into the kitchen, surprised that he wasn't already in there. Then again, she had woken him in the middle of the night. Just as she was pouring herself a cup of fresh coffee, he showed up in his sleeping clothes, sweatpants and an old Air Force shirt. His hair looked like he had started the day off by sticking his finger in a light socket.  
  
"What?" he asked suspiciously at the amused look on her face.  
  
"Nothing," she said, pouring him a cup of coffee. "Did I fall asleep in your room last night? I don't remember going back to bed."  
  
"Umm... you were about to fall asleep so I told you to go before you did."  
  
"It's weird that I don't remember it..."  
  
"You were really tired," he said quickly.  
  
"Oh my God!" she suddenly exclaimed.  
  
"What?!" he said quickly, looking nervous about something.  
  
"It's trash day, isn't it? I forgot. I'll be right back..."  
  
She hurried outside, not waiting for an answer. It was a really pretty morning. Everything was wet and shiny from the rain the night before. Sam was trying to wrestle both large trash cans down the long driveway at the same time when a little boy about ten years old appeared out of nowhere.  
  
"Hi," he said with a grin.  
  
"Um, hi," she answered. He was really cute.  
  
"Want some help?" he offered.  
  
"Sure," Sam said, giving up control of the smaller can.  
  
"I'm Jeffrey."  
  
"Hi. I'm Sam."  
  
"Is that your car?" he asked, pointing to Sam's car.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"It's really cool."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"It's been here a long time now... did you get married to Colonel O'Neill?"  
  
She laughed. "Um, no. We just work together."  
  
"In the Air Force?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Wow, cool."  
  
They set the trash cans on the curb and someone yelled, "Jeff! Get back over here!"  
  
"JUST A MINUTE!" the little boy yelled back. Sam looked over into the next yard, where two older boys were kicking a soccer ball around. "Today's our first day of summer," Jeffrey told her proudly.  
  
"Wow, that must be exciting."  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
The front door opened and Jack came out on his crutches, trying to find out what was taking her so long. "Oh no," he said quietly as he spotted Jeffrey talking to Sam. He turned to go back inside but Jeffrey had already spotted him.  
  
"Good morning, Colonel O'Neill!" he called, waving at him and running up to talk to him. Sam followed him, clearly amused.  
  
"Hey, Jeff, listen..."  
  
"What happened to your leg?" Jeffrey asked loudly.  
  
Sam stopped in surprise. She was sure these were the boys he had been playing street hockey with when he had broken it in the first place.  
  
"Um, I had an accident."  
  
"What kind of accident?"  
  
Sam looked at Jack sharply and he looked so caught that something clicked in her mind. "You didn't fall playing hockey with them," she said evenly.  
  
He started to answer but just shook his head. Jeffrey was looking back and forth between them, completely lost. Something else surfaced in her mind. "I did fall asleep in your room last night. You carried me back to mine, without your crutches."  
  
"Sam, wait," he begged.  
  
Jeffrey's older brothers were yelling at him to come back over to their yard. Jeffrey was inspecting Jack's cast.  
  
"Did you... fake this entire... I can't believe you." She wheeled around, not wanting him to see how hurt she was feeling, and started hurrying across the wet yard towards her car.  
  
The soccer ball Jeffrey's brothers were playing with came out of nowhere, she tripped over it, and before she knew what was happening she had heard a loud crack, yelled out in pain, and was lying on her back in the wet grass.


	12. 12

Ch 12

"Is she okay?"  
  
"Should I go call an ambulance?"  
  
"I never saw anybody's leg bend that way before!"  
  
Sam groaned at the three children's voices and opened her eyes groggily. Not only was there a searing pain in her ankle, the back of her head was throbbing as well.  
  
"She's awake!" Jeffrey's face, along with his two brothers, appeared over her head. They were all peering at her curiously.  
  
"I'm the one who kicked the ball," one of the older boys said. "I'm really, really sorry."  
  
"It's not your fault," she said, her brain clearing enough to remember exactly whose fault it was. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?" she demanded, trying to sit up. She got dizzy and started to fall again, but three pairs of little hands pulled her up to a sitting position and they all hovered over her.  
  
"He went inside to call somebody on the phone. He told us to watch you," Jeffrey said. They were clearly following orders. All three of them were hovering over her like she was about to die.  
  
"I'm okay, guys, really," she said.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill, she's awake!" Jeffrey yelled suddenly.  
  
Sam winced at the sharp pain in her head and glared at her CO as he suddenly appeared over her as well. "Thanks, guys," he said, nudging them out of the way and crouching down in front of her. "I called Janet, she's going to be waiting for you. How's your head?"  
  
He tried to touch the back of her head but she swatted his hand away. "I'm fine, sir," she said pointedly. He looked at her like she'd just punched him in the gut but didn't say anything.  
  
"Um, boys, I've got to take her to the doctor now, why don't you guys go home," he said quietly.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"I hope you get better, Sam."  
  
"I'm still really sorry."  
  
She smiled at all of them and they all left. Then she turned back to her CO. Her head was killing her but she didn't care. "Since you obviously don't need those crutches anymore, would you mind if I borrowed them?" she asked icily, trying to get to her feet.  
  
He grabbed her elbows firmly and hauled her onto her good foot, despite the fact that she was trying to jerk her arms away from him. "Stop it, you're going to make it worse," he said firmly, half-dragging her to her car.  
  
"I want the crutches," she said firmly, glaring at him as he got her into the passenger seat and leaned over her to do her seat belt.  
  
"Tough. They're inside, and Janet wants you there as fast as possible."  
  
"If you screw up my car trying to drive with that damn thing on your leg, I'll..." He slammed her door shut and she could hear him cursing as he went around to the driver's side.  
  
She continued to glare at him from the passenger seat the entire way to the base. She was prepared to snap at him for any explanation he might offer, but to her surprise he didn't try to say anything the entire way. He just stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw twitching.  
  
"You're going to kill yourself if you don't let me help you," he said hotly as she tried to get out of the car by herself, lost her balance, and had to briefly put down her hurt leg.  
  
"You're going to fall anyway, walking around with that cast on your leg," she argued, jerking her arm back away from him and hanging onto the door for support. "Just get Janet down here."  
  
"No, SG-18 just came back from their two month mineral survey. I've got to get you up there. Come on."  
  
"Don't touch me!"  
  
"All right, fine!" he said hotly, leaning back against the car. "We'll just wait here then until the pain in your leg and head supercedes your damn stubborness!"  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at his watch. She glared at him, but realized there was actually very little she could do with an obviously broken ankle and probably a concussion.  
  
"Are you happy now?" she asked angrily after two minutes of the stand-off.  
  
"How can you ask me that? You know I feel terrible about this. I know you're mad, but I also know that you KNOW I would gladly trade places with you right now if I could."  
  
She continued to glare at him, but he was no longer returning the angry look. He was studying the parking lot ground as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.  
  
Ten minutes later, her anger had started to be pushed to the back of her mind as the pain in her body and the uncomfortable dampness of her clothes from falling in the wet grass all took over. "Okay," she said quietly.


	13. 13

Ch. 13  
  
He helped her into the infirmary, which was by this time cleared of SG18. Only Siler was occupying the farthest bed, having shocked himself for the eight or ninth time that month. Janet was waiting for them, and as she exchanged sympathetic looks with Jack while helping Sam sit down on the side of a bed, Sam realized that Janet must have known all along that nothing was wrong with the Colonel's ankle. She had been the one doing the cast, after all. Her brain was too fuzzy with pain to properly lash out at Janet, however, and she finally lost the struggle to stay conscious as she felt herself being changed into a hospital gown.  
  
When she came to, the first thing she recognized was the smell of the infirmary, closely followed by the beeping of the heart monitor she was hooked up to. She opened her eyes groggily and looked around.  
  
Jack was sitting next to the bed, looking miserable. He met her eyes and recognized the look on her face. "I'll go," he said quietly, getting up and leaving. She noticed his cast was gone now, and he was walking normally again.  
  
He had obviously told Janet she was awake, because the doctor soon hurried into the room, started checking all of her vitals, and recording them on her chart. "You've got a mild concussion and a broken ankle, Sam. Broken clean through. I've already set it."  
  
She elevated the bed halfway so that Sam was half-sitting up. She looked down at her leg, which was in a cast identical to the Colonel's, and propped up on two pillows. After a brief neurological exam, Janet sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her friend.  
  
"Ready to hear an explanation for all of this?" she asked gently. Sam nodded. She was too tired to be openly hostile towards anyone right now anyway. Best to get all of the information first and then let them have it once she was better.  
  
"Apparently, Colonel O'Neill and Daniel were having a conversation before your vacations started, and they were discussing the fact that you always work through yours. Somehow, the idea that you would only take time off if you were injured and ordered to got turned into the idea of one of them being injured, and they came up with Colonel O'Neill breaking his ankle. According to Daniel, it started off as a joke, but then they decided to see if it would work. Which was how I found them in my infirmary early one morning trying to steal the supplies to make a cast. They filled me in on everything, begged for my help, and I couldn't say no. I wanted you to rest, and I figured this might be as good a suggestion as any. And I know you're angry now, Sam, and I don't blame you, but... it did sort of work, didn't it? I mean, before the accident this morning, you looked phenomenal. I haven't seen you so happy and relaxed since right after we started working here."  
  
"So I'm just supposed to ignore the fact that all of that was based on a lie and be what? Grateful that my CO faked an injury to get me to sit around his house with him for two weeks?"  
  
"Sam. He feels terrible. He told me he tried to tell you about the whole set-up last night, but you had fallen asleep already."  
  
She snorted. "Yeah, right."  
  
"That's just what he told me. Look... maybe there's another way to look at this."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, think about it. The man hates anything having to do with being sick or injured, and he voluntarily wore an itchy cast and walked around on crutches for two weeks for no reason. He also gave up a fishing trip on the off chance that this crazy plan would actually work a little bit. I'll never understand the way the two of you work, but can't you find that... endearing? Or something?"  
  
"It doesn't change the fact that he lied..."  
  
"Only because you would never have let yourself be around him for that long without a reason. How many times has he invited you places and you've turned him down? Instead of giving up and asking one of the MANY other women I'm sure would be thrilled to go out with him, he faked an injury and spent his vacation sitting on his couch so he could make sure you got some sleep. And whatever you say, or whatever you're trying to convince yourself is true right now, you know as well as I do that the only thing about the last two weeks that was a lie was the cast. Anything else that might have happened wasn't."  
  
"Nothing happened, Jan," she said automatically.  
  
"Maybe not in the world of normal people," Janet agreed casually.  
  
Sam sighed and studied her hands.  
  
"He's waiting outside. Want me to let him back in?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Janet headed for the door, stopped, and turned back to her friend with a smile. "We've forgotten one important thing."  
  
"What?" Sam asked.  
  
"After what he just pulled, you can get away with anything now. He owes you big time."  
  
Sam smiled. "That's true."  
  
THE END. 


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
"What are you doing?" Sam asked, trying to get a look at what Jack was drawing on her cast. Janet had insisted on keeping her in the infirmary for a day and a night due to the mild concussion, but she was going to be released soon. Jack had shown up for breakfast with a paint pen to sign her black cast with, but he had been drawing on it for about fifteen minutes, and he was sitting on her bed with his back blocking her view of what he was doing.  
  
"There! Done!" he stated proudly, capping the pen and shifting positions so she could see his magnificent artwork.  
  
"What on earth is that supposed to be?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"That's Thor!" he said defensively. "And a ship, see? And he's giving you a new reactor and..."  
  
"Just looks like a bunch of blobs to me," she insisted, but she was grinning.  
  
Janet smiled to herself and finished up her notes on her friend's chart as Jack objected, "Hey, you try drawing on one of these things, it's not easy! Plus you kept on squirming around..."  
  
"Good morning, people," General Hammond's voice said from the doorway.  
  
Janet and Jack stood quickly at attention.  
  
"At ease," he said, coming over to the foot of Sam's bed and smiling at her encouragingly. "Well, Major Carter, how are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine, sir," she said with an overly-enthusiastic grin that had both Jack and Janet rolling their eyes.  
  
"Good to hear, Major. Colonel O'Neill informed me of the nature of your injury, but I'm still unclear on a few details, if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions..."  
  
"Of course, sir," she said, swallowing and exchanging a scared look with Jack. For all they might argue with each other, they both knew neither was going to get the other in trouble with General Hammond. And faking a broken leg to keep your 2IC hostage on her downtime would probably qualify for getting the Colonel, and Janet potentially as well, in trouble.  
  
"I was about to give Colonel O'Neill a ride to the base yesterday morning, sir. His neighbors were playing soccer and I tripped over the ball. It was just one of those things."  
  
General Hammond looked at all of his subordinates in turn. They were all hiding something, and he had a very good idea of what it was. "Very well," he said. "You've just bought SG-1 4-6 more weeks of downtime, Major." He turned to Dr. Fraiser. "It would probably be best if someone accompanied Major Carter home for a while, don't you think, Doctor?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, sir, that would be wise," Janet said immediately, nodding seriously.  
  
Hammond nodded briskly at them all and strode towards the door, all business. He yanked it open, then turned back to look at them, wondering if they actually, truly believed they had fooled him. "Oh, and Colonel O'Neill? Major Carter?"  
  
"Yes, sir?" they asked simultaneously.  
  
"Next time be a little more careful," he said cryptically before striding out of the infirmary purposefully.  
  
They all looked at each other.  
  
"Do you think he..." Sam started.  
  
"No way," Jack said firmly.  
  
"I don't know, sir..." Janet put in.  
  
She signed off on Sam's chart and said, "Okay, Sam, you're free to go. Try not to kill each other."  
  
"Ready?" Jack asked, helping her up onto her crutches.  
  
"Yup. I've got quite a few things I could use your help with..."  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"Oh yeah, my lawn needs to be mowed, I promised Daniel I'd help him archive all of his video footage from all of the planets we've been to..."  
  
"No, Sam. Please. No," he begged.  
  
"Then I told Cassie I'd take her to the mall to get her belly button pierced..." Sam continued as they headed down the hall.  
  
"Saaam..."  
  
"What?" she asked innocently as he punched the elevator button rather harder than was necessary. "You know what they say about payback." 


End file.
